


May 2018

by babybrotherdean



Series: 365 challenge: 2018 [5]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-04 00:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 16,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14580954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/babybrotherdean
Summary: Collection of 365 challenge ficlets for the month of May.





	1. One-Hundred Twenty-One: Polar Bear Dip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with spring starting to creep in on them, flowers beginning to poke up from among the grass, the mornings are still cold. It’s worse with clouds overhead, obstructing what little sun exists at this hour, and- and apparently Sam doesn’t think that’s quite enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to go for a dip in a lake for work and it was... not exactly a jacuzzi.

Even with spring starting to creep in on them, flowers beginning to poke up from among the grass, the mornings are still cold. It’s worse with clouds overhead, obstructing what little sun exists at this hour, and- and apparently Sam doesn’t think that’s quite enough.

Dean’s wrapped up tight in his coat and he’s still shivering, a thermos of hot coffee carefully cradled in his arms. The wind bites at his exposed cheeks, and he hunches his shoulders a bit to try blocking it out. It’s wildly tempting to hurry back to the car and wait there, but he doesn’t want to take his eyes off of his brother.

Sam’s already waist-deep in the lake water, wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks, and Dean finds himself wondering all over again if Sam’s still a little bit off-kilter. Dean keeps watching as Sam takes a few more steps before ducking under the water, and he frowns, sand and pebbles crunching underfoot as he shifts his weight. The whole thing makes him a little uneasy, but it’s only a moment before Sam’s head pops up above the surface again and Dean can breathe a little easier.

“You know you’re crazy, right?” he calls out as Sam starts making his way back towards the shore. Dean’s got a dry towel over his shoulder and moved closer to the water’s edge, ready to offer it up. “You ever heard of a little thing called hypothermia?”

Even from a distance, Dean can feel Sam rolling his eyes. He doesn’t even look like he’s shivering. Damn human furnace. “It’s called a polar bear dip. You should try it. It’s good for you. Wakes you up.”

“I’ll stick with my caffeine.” Dean shakes his head in disbelief, then holds the towel out for his brother once he gets close. Sam takes it and starts scrubbing his hair dry, seeming entirely unfazed by the chilly air. “You sure you’re good?”

Sam nods once he’s done with his hair, starting to dry the rest of himself off. “Yeah. You, uh- you got any of that coffee to share?”

Dean huffs our a breath and hands over the thermos, turning to lead the way back to the car. “C’mon. There’s a hot shower waiting for you back at the room.”

Dean keeps a close eye on Sam the whole way back, but he seems like he’s in good spirits, bright-eyed and ready for the day. His lips don’t turn blue, which seems like a good sign, and yeah, he seems like he’s pretty solidly awake. Maybe there’s something to be said about the cold water, after all.

Dean still thinks he’s gonna stick with the caffeine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	2. One-Hundred Twenty-Two: Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dean, c’mon. Just a sip?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam's birthday. :>

“Dean, c’mon. Just a sip?”

Freshly sixteen years old, Sam’s still got a masterful handle on the big eyes that make it impossible to refuse him anything he asks for. Dean knows better than most how useless it is to bother resisting, and right now, especially- Sam’s hair is tousled, and he’s got a smile on his lips, and the sunset makes his skin glow gold- he can’t bring himself to say no.

They’re settled on the hood of the impala together, off at some supposedly popular hookup spot that overlooks the entire town. It’s a hell of a view, and with the sky painted in reds and oranges as the sun sinks towards the horizon, it sure makes for a pretty picture. Dean’s got a beer in hand, and the cooler sits nearby, a few more drinks at the ready for their private little celebration.

“Here, you know what?” Dean sits up and reaches for the cooler, fishing another bottle out of the ice. He pops the cap off and offers it to his brother with an easy grin, fingers wet with condensation. “Dad gave me my first beer when I was younger than you, so… here. Happy birthday.”

Sam raises his eyebrows at that, but he’s smiling, too, excitement coming through as he reaches out and accepts the bottle. Their fingers brush and Dean’s smile softens, watching as Sam inspects the damp label. “Wow, um- thanks, Dean. Really.”

Dean keeps watching as Sam finally lifts the bottle and takes a sip, sunlight glinting off the glass as the bottle tips back. When Sam comes up for air with a wrinkled nose and a generally displeased look, swallowing forcefully, Dean laughs.

“What?” Sam demands, a little defensive now, and he clutches he bottle close like he’s worried Dean’s going to take it back. “What’re you laughing at?”

Dean grins. “You hate it,” he teases. “Am I right?”

Sam looks like he might protest for a second, but then just grumbles something incoherent and gives the bottle an annoyed look. “How do you drink this stuff all the time? It’s gross.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” Dean corrects, giving his brother a nudge. “Maybe you’re just not old enough to appreciate it, huh?”

“Shut up.” Sam nudges him back, and the two of them go back and forth for a moment until Dean nearly slips off the side of the car and both of them end up breathless with laughter. When they finally settle again, closer than before in the last few minutes of daylight, Sam speaks again, softer. “Really, though. Thanks, Dean. This… this is nice.”

Dean smiles to himself, taking a moment to look away from the sunset in favour of watching Sam. His smart, beautiful, kind, perfect baby brother. Older now, maybe, but just as good as he’s always been. Just as sweet. Just as important.

“You’re welcome,” he says simply. Waits until Sam looks his way before smiling, soft. “Happy birthday, kiddo.”

They watch the sun go down before packing up and heading back to the motel room. They’ve still got a few more hours to celebrate, and there’s a pizza and some bad movies in their future.

Dean thinks it’s been an absolutely perfect day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	3. One-Hundred Twenty-Three: Crossing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do we gotta do before we cross the street, Sammy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted tiny babies doing something soft and being cute.

“What do we gotta do before we cross the street, Sammy?”

Dean feels very responsible, holding his baby brother’s hand tight in his own as they stand by the crosswalk on the way to school. Both of them are weighted down with their backpacks, Sammy’s nearly as big as he is, and with the school such a short walk away from home, Dean’s been put in charge of taking Sammy there and back today. He’s taking his job very seriously, though it’s hard to keep a straight face whenever he looks down at his brother and sees the way Sammy looks at him. Like maybe Dean put all the stars in the sky and makes the sun rise every morning to bring light into the world.

Sammy’s got a big smile on his face when Dean looks at him now, absolutely beaming. “Gotta look both ways!” he declares, and he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excited puppy. Dean sorely wishes he had a cookie to offer for the right answer.

“Yep.” Instead, Dean just gives a serious nod, cracking a smile when Sammy cheers. “So we gotta look left…” He does, and Sammy mirrors him. “Then right… and then left again. See any cars?”

The road is clear, and Sammy shakes his head. “No cars!”

“That means it’s safe.” Still, Dean holds Sammy’s hand a little tighter and keeps him close as he steps down off the curb. “C'mon, let’s go.”

Sammy just hums and sticks right to Dean’s side as they cross the road. He doesn’t seem to have a care in the world, looking a whole lot like he’s never been happier than right now, holding his big brother’s hand and walking to school together on a sunny morning, and Dean- Dean has to admit, it’s pretty nice.

“Safe!” Sammy declares once they reach the far side of the road, and he stops walking long enough to wrap his arms around Dean’s middle and give him a tight hug. “All safe, De!”

Dean thinks that his heart might melt right then and there, filled with an overwhelming amount of affection for his little brother. He hugs Sammy back just as fiercely, resting his cheek in baby-soft hair and letting out a soft breath. It’s kind of hard to process how much he loves this boy.

“Yeah, Sammy,” he says, voice soft. He’s forgotten all about getting to school for the moment, just focusing on the feeling of Sammy in his arms and how good it feels to be loved so wholly and unconditionally. Nobody else will ever come close to this, he thinks. “All safe.”

They’re right back to normal a moment later, Sammy skipping along at Dean’s side as they make their way to school, but Dean’s left with that same warm, soft feeling for the rest of the day. He likes keeping his little brother safe. He likes being responsible.

He likes when Sammy looks at him like he holds the entire world in his palm. Like Dean is the bravest, smartest, kindest person to ever live, even if it’s not true.

He loves his little brother, and he vows to himself, not for the first time, that he’ll always keep Sammy safe. Always protect him. Always be by his side.

No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	4. One-Hundred Twenty-Four: Hiatus Beard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You sure Sam can’t grow a beard next season?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiatus beards make me feel things.

“You sure Sam can’t grow a beard next season?”

Jared laughs at him, low and breathless, and Jensen rests their foreheads together, smiles. They’re both getting scruffy with filming done for the year, and it’s hardly the first time Jensen’s made this sort of comment, but he can never quite help himself.

“Maybe one of these days,” Jared hums. “I’ll leave it up to you to run that by the higher-ups.”

Jensen responds to that by leaning in closer and pressing their lips together, smiling wider when he feels the gentle scratch of stubble on stubble. It’s something he doesn’t get very often, and maybe that’s what makes it send a shiver through him. Maybe it’s imagining what that beard would feel like against different parts of his body.

“Hope you’re not planning to shave any time soon, either,” Jared mumbles, and his fingertips brush over Jensen’s cheek without properly separating from their kiss. “‘Cause it’s been too long since I got to have you like this.”

Jensen thinks he can live with that. “Deal,” he murmurs, and then they’re kissing again and Jensen presses in a little harder and the teasing fades into the background. Jensen pushes his fingers up into Jared’s hair and holds on tight and focuses on the here-and-now.

They’ve got a couple months to enjoy this. Jensen figures that’ll be plenty of time to explore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	5. One-Hundred Twenty-Five: First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time it happens, Jensen is mostly terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big, giant chunk of that vampire!Jared AU.

The first time it happens, Jensen is mostly terrified.

He’s known about Jared’s…  _condition_ for a handful of weeks. They’ve been dating longer than that, and it wasn’t like Jensen hadn’t noticed how odd his boyfriend was; his general aversion to sunlight, how infrequently he seemed to eat, and even the way he moved on occasion- like a predator; quick and fluid in a way that still sends shivers down Jensen’s spine. Maybe Jared figured out that Jensen was struggling to put the pieces together, or maybe he’d just been waiting for the right time to share, but whatever the case-

“Look, I know it’s gonna sound crazy, but- you’ve heard of Dracula, right?”

Yeah. That takes a little getting used to.

Still, Jensen’s come to terms with it now, more or less. He’s still got a lot of questions, and there’s a lot he doesn’t understand- a lot he doesn’t  _want_ to understand, maybe- but overriding all of it is the way that Jared makes him feel simply by existing. By smiling, or laughing, or holding Jensen’s hand. It makes the details seem unimportant, no matter how insane they should be compared to everything else he’s lived through thus far.

One thing they don’t really talk about for a long while is Jared’s diet. There’s an unspoken understanding between them, and Jensen’s content not to analyze it too closely. It shouldn’t be a big deal, right? And it isn’t, not until he lets his mind wonder and he stops thinking so much about the  _what_ and starts focusing a little more on the  _who_.

“So, uh… where do you…”

He’s not really sure how to start the conversation. It’s a couple hours before dawn, which means Jared’s getting ready to turn in and rest for the day. Jensen’s far from adjusted to the inverse sleep schedule, but he’s determined to spend as much waking time with Jared as possible, and if it takes a little while for his body to adjust… well, he’ll live. They’re at Jared’s place, settled on the couch after a little movie marathon, and maybe it’s because he’s so tired that Jensen lets the question slip out.

Jared doesn’t seem to be following. He raises his eyebrows in question, shifting to face Jensen more fully, and their knees bump together, driving Jensen to shuffle a bit closer. “Where do I what?”

“You know.” Jensen hesitates, glancing towards the coffee table. The remains of a few snacks sit there, mostly his own work, and he chews his lip for a moment. Is it rude to ask about this kind of thing? What kind of etiquette do vampires have about their food? “When you get hungry. Or, uh- thirsty? Where do you-?”

“Oh.” Jared hums in understanding, and he doesn’t seem offended by the question, so Jensen relaxes. “The blood?” When Jensen nods, Jared continues. “It kinda varies depending on what’s available. Sometimes it’s easy to snatch some from a blood bank or whatever, but I always feel kinda bad about doing that… but the alternative isn’t much better. Unless you find somebody who’s willing, I guess. And it’s easy enough to mess up their memories so they don’t go around telling everybody that vampires are real…”

That’s a conversation for another day, and Jensen stows the new curiosity. “So you’ll drink from people?”

“Yeah, if I can.” He looks sheepish when he smiles. “It’s better fresh. And I’ve been told it’s good for them, too. Some kind of endorphin thing with the venom. So it’s just a matter of finding somebody, getting them alone, and…” Jared grins, a flash of fangs with his teeth. “Pretty straightforward.”

Jensen doesn’t like the way his stomach twists at that. Bizarrely, it’s not the blood-drinking that makes him queasy, though. He blurts out the next bit before he can process that he’s even thinking it. “You haven’t asked me.”

Jared must be as surprised to hear it as Jensen is to have said it, judging by his expression, and Jensen immediately wants to take it back. God, he shouldn’t be jealous of people that Jared might use for  _food_. That’s insane, right? It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t.

It shouldn’t.

“I didn’t think you’d want to.” Jared’s watching him closely, now, and Jensen can’t quite meet his eyes. “And I didn’t want to freak you out. It was already a lot to drop on you that I drink blood in the first place. And I mean-” He pauses for a moment. “That’s not what this is about. I didn’t… I don’t know. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea. About our relationship.”

They both stay quiet for a few seconds, and Jensen isn’t sure how he’s supposed to respond to that. Sitting in the dark like this, it’s a little easier to think, and he tries to take a deep breath before making himself look up, look at Jared.

There’s something innately unsettling about the thought of offering up his blood to a creature built to feed on his kind, but Jensen just- he just.

He needs to do this.

“I do. I want you to.” And maybe his voice wavers, but he presses on, shifts closer to Jared until he’s just short of climbing right into his boyfriend’s lap. “I want- I want to do this for you. Please? And you said it feels good, right, so- so it’ll be good.”

Jared frowns, even as he pulls Jensen closer. Jensen fits perfectly in Jared’s lap, straddling his hips, and Jared holds him there like he’s made of glass, fingertips feather-light as they ghost up Jensen’s sides. “Jensen, you don’t have to,” he says, and his voice is soft now, gentle. Soothing. “I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want you to feel like you had to. That’s not why I told you about all this.”

Still, Jensen refuses to give up. He takes a small breath before tilting his head to the side, shifting to properly expose his throat. He can feel his heart beating about a thousand times a minute, and he can only imagine that Jared hears it loud and clear. “Please?” he says, barely above a whisper. “I just- I want to. At least once.”

Jensen doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Jared’s arm curls tight around his waist and pulls him in close. They’re chest-to-chest now, and Jared’s free hand cups Jensen’s cheek so their eyes meet. “Are you sure?” Jared asks him quietly, and he waits until Jensen nods before sighing. “Okay. Just… if you want out, then- smack me or something. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

Whatever primal fear is gripping Jensen at the prospect of what he’s about to do, he knows in his heart that Jared is telling the truth. That makes it a little bit easier to tilt his head again, letting Jared guide him into position this time, and he closes his eyes, taking deep breaths to settle himself. Jared’s still holding him close, and that’s a comfort, something to cling to when he feels Jared’s lips meet his pulse point, barely a kiss.

“I’ve got you,” Jared mumbles against his skin, and Jensen gives a tiny nod, trying to force himself to relax. Between one heartbeat and the next, the brush of teeth against his skin becomes twin needle pricks, two points of sharp pain that force the breath out of him as Jared’s fangs sink in, but it’s over as quickly as it starts because suddenly, Jensen is floating.

It’s too much to process at first, between the faint ache and the sensation of blood leaving his body and the tingling warmth beginning to seep its way in. It’s overwhelming; Jensen’s grateful that he’s sitting down and that Jared’s holding him, because he’s not sure he would be able to handle anything more right now. As the seconds tick by into an eternity, the sensations feel like they’re getting more focused, even as they spread to the tips of his fingers and the soles of his feet; everything is  _Jared_ in a way that’s completely indescribable, something he never could have conceived of had he not been experiencing it for himself right now.

He barely notices when Jared is done, carefully pulling away without letting go of Jensen. It takes a couple minutes for him to even become aware of his surroundings once more, Jared’s voice drifting in slowly along with the feeling of arms around him, warm and secure and distinctly safe.

“…be okay. It’s usually like this, the first time… it’s a lot to handle.”

Jensen doesn’t notice his eyes are closed until he opens them again to look at Jared, still dazed and feeling loose-limbed after what just happened. When Jared lifts a hand and brushes his fingertips over Jensen’s cheek, they come away wet, and- is he crying?

“You okay?” Jared asks, softer now, and Jensen blinks at him, slow. “You just need to rest for a bit. I didn’t take much, but- but it’s kind of a shock to the system.”

Jensen registers, distantly, that Jared’s fangs are still visible, and he wonders idly if his boyfriend’s mouth tastes like copper. He doesn’t get the opportunity to find out just yet, but Jared does press a kiss to his forehead, smiling all soft and fond.

“Let’s get you to bed, huh?”

They’re halfway to the bedroom when Jensen finally works up the ambition to speak, leaning heavily against Jared. It’s soft and distant because that’s how his head feels, and it’s mumbled into Jared’s shoulder because he doesn’t want to lift his head. “I like it.”

Jared smiles at him, and it’s just a moment later that Jensen is being carefully manhandled into the bed. Jared’s not far behind him, curling up close. “Then maybe we can do it again sometime, if you’re up for it.”

Jensen’s about to tell Jared exactly how up for it he feels, but his eyes slip shut of their own accord and it doesn’t take much after that before he slips into a proper sleep, missing the affectionate look he receives and the way Jared tucks him in without pulling away.

If this is something that Jensen can do for his boyfriend- something that makes them closer in a way that most people could never imagine- then Jensen will happily let Jared take however much he wants. It’s a strange experience, and one that’ll take some getting used to, but…

Well. He figures they’ve got time to adjust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	6. One-Hundred Twenty-Six: Fragile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn’t until Mary holds her little boy for the first time that it really occurs to her how very fragile he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking about Mary and how small and delicate a tiny baby must have been for her and. ;-;

It isn’t until Mary holds her little boy for the first time that it really occurs to her how very fragile he is.

They’ve been working on baby-proofing the house for weeks, John eager for any way he can occupy himself in a way that doesn’t involve directly fretting over Mary’s belly, but when she carries little Dean in through the front door, everything around her feels like a threat. It’s only John’s hand at her back that keeps her from working herself into a panic; how can something so small and so breakable possibly exist in a world as harsh as theirs?

“Mary?” John gets her attention, and he must see the look on her face, because he softens, stays close. “You should probably rest for a little while longer. Let’s go upstairs.”

Every step between the front door and the bedroom reveals another potential hazard to their child’s safety; sharp corners and rough surfaces and a million other tiny things that overwhelm her, drive her to hold Dean just a little bit tighter. He’s bundled up tight and fast asleep, and every time she looks down at him in her arms, soft and clean and quiet and perfect, she feels like she’s going to cry.

The entire world is built to break apart everything that Dean is. To make him rough and jagged, to tear out the soft bits and leave scars in their place. The house is just a tiny part of the process, a process that’s bound to take place over the years, and Mary knows it isn’t realistic to try to stop it completely, but-

“Maybe we should go over the house once more,” she says as they reach the bedroom, just quiet. “Just- just make sure it’s safe for him.”

John pauses, then leans in to press a kiss to Mary’s cheek, first, and then Dean’s forehead, lingering there for a tiny moment. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

Mary falls asleep just a little bit easier knowing that Dean is safe in her arms. For however long she can manage it, she has every intention of protecting him from the rest of the world. There’s too much out there that could so easily do him harm, and Mary won’t allow that. She won’t allow him to become battered and bruised and scarred the way that she has, the way that so many other people are. She’ll keep him safe.

She won’t let anything happen to her little boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	7. One-Hundred Twenty-Seven: Underwear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least Jared has the decency to look sheepish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sharing underwear is just next-level. Why do J2 have to be like this.

At least Jared has the decency to look sheepish.

“Seriously. Underwear, of all things?” Jensen’s grumbling to himself as he moves around the hotel room, getting himself ready for the morning. They’ve each got their own rooms this time around, but after Jared’s text explaining that he’d maybe packed a little too lightly, Jensen had told him to come by. Jared arrives in his pyjamas and he remains that way now, watching Jensen curiously. “Isn’t that the first thing you pack?”

“No. And I just didn’t realize it wasn’t enough, c’mon.” Jared pauses for a moment. “What’re you doing, anyways? It’s not a big deal. I can just go commando today.”

Jensen rolls his eyes and crouches down to start digging through his suitcase. “In jeans? Yeah, good luck with that.” He finds the collection of boxers he’s brought with him for the trip, clean and neatly folded, and picks out a black pair before standing again. “We can buy you some new ones when we go out today, but for now-“

Jared’s reflexes are impressive, considering the early hour, and he catches the underwear Jensen throws his way instead of being hit in the face. “Wow. Sharing is caring, huh?”

“Shut up.” Alright, so Jensen might not be quite as annoyed as he’s pretending. The amused grin on Jared’s face suggests he’s aware of this fact. “C’mon, it’s already getting late. Get dressed so we can get some coffee. And you’d better be wearing those.”

Jared winks at him, already turning back to the door so he can return to his own room. “Yes, sir. I’ll take good care of them. Don’t worry.”

Jensen finds himself more than a little distracted throughout the day with the thought of what Jared is wearing under his jeans, and it doesn’t help that the waistband if his boxers peeks out every time Jared lifts his arms. Judging by the look on his face, Jensen suspects that it’s entirely on purpose.

Whatever. He’ll have his chance later to take a very, very close look at everything Jared has going on.

(And to peel those boxers right back off.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	8. One-Hundred Twenty-Eight: Icarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean never really understands the story of Icarus until he finds out about the demon blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been playing the God of War games and they've gotten me back into Greek mythology. Sam as Icarus upsets me.

Dean never really understands the story of Icarus until he finds out about the demon blood.

Of all the stories from Greek mythology, the ones he used to pore over for hours because of how deeply they fascinated him, it’s the tragedy of Daedalus and his son that’s always stuck out to him. As human as it all seems, that thirst for something greater, Dean just doesn’t get it. Why didn’t Icarus listen to his father? Why didn’t he adjust his course when his wings began to deteriorate, to save his own life?

Ruby opens his eyes to just how blinding that sun must have been. He’s got no idea how deep Sam is, how far she’s got her claws in his little brother until it’s too late, and there’s no more turning back. There’s Sam, pumped full of demon blood and a thirst for power that’s maybe always been there, that’s maybe something new, and there’s Dean, left beaten and bloody on the floor of a wrecked motel room, wondering how they ended up here. Wondering if things could have been different.

Sam flies too close to the sun, chokes the life right out of Lilith and brings the devil into their world. Dean watches the way it cripples his brother, wings clipped and plunging straight into the unforgiving sea below, and he thinks he finally understands.

Maybe Daedalus felt helpless like this, too. Like a failure. Dean feels like he’s drowning in it.

Maybe human beings were never meant to fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	9. One-Hundred Twenty-Nine: Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Here, taste this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think a lot about baker!Dean.

“Here, taste this.”

Dean’s been at this all day, working his way through a whole slew of recipes he’s been squirreling away somewhere. The kitchen is a disaster, all manners of flour and sugar and god knows what else sprinkled over every surface. Sam’s managed to stay mostly out of the line of fire, but Dean’s floral apron has taken some hits and he’s sporting some flecks of cocoa powder on the collar of his shirt.

Sam has to say, it’s not a bad look. A hell of a lot better than being covered in blood and monster bits.

He takes the spoon of cookie dough that’s offered to him with an amused smile. “Aren’t you supposed to cook this first?”

“Duh.” Dean waves him off, already turning back to the counter to tend to whatever dough he’s working on in one of the big mixing bowls he’s bought himself recently. “But I have to make sure it’s right, or else what’s the point?”

Sam considers that for a moment, then shrugs, taking a little nibble of the dough. He’s lost track of which recipe this is and what’s actually in it, but it tastes good, chocolatey. He’s pretty sure that Dean operates on a policy that there’s no such thing as too much chocolate. “Seems right to me.”

Dean grunts, already sucked back into his kneading, and Sam takes the opportunity to watch his brother work. There’s something soothing about the whole thing, and maybe that’s what’s had him sitting here for the past couple hours, just chatting with Dean and watching him bake and being a taste-tester when necessary. It’s safe, and it’s normal, and even though he’s probably going to have a stomach ache later for all the sugar he’s consumed… well, as long as Dean’s going at it, Sam plans on staying right here. It’s a strange combination; the novelty of having their own kitchen mashed together with the nostalgia of watching Dean working away to make something to eat, and Sam… Sam likes this a lot.

“Am I gonna get to eat any finished cookies?” Sam asks, keeping his voice light and teasing, and he’s rewarded with a grin as Dean glances over his shoulder. “Because I’ve already eaten my weight in dough.”

“There’ll be lots of cookies,” Dean promises. “You’ll be sick of cookies by the time they’re all done.”

Sam thinks, privately, that he could eat all the cookies in the world if it kept Dean smiling like this forever.

“Try me.”

Only one way to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	10. One-Hundred Thirty: Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s cute when he’s focused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some gardening at work today, and this is the result. :>

Dean’s cute when he’s focused. Even at just a few years old, he’s got some serious furrows in his brow and he’s completely intent on the task at hand, sometimes mumbling to himself as if he’s reminding himself what to do. Mary recognizes it from stories about her own childhood, and it makes her smile as she watches.

They’re all out in the backyard today, with the sun shining overhead and a light breeze to keep the heat under control. It’s a gardening day as Mary tries to get everything in order for the spring season, and while John deals with some of the heavier work across the yard and Sammy plays with some toys on a little picnic blanket, Dean has been enlisted to help with the planting.

“Hole,” he announces, and he’s pointing proudly at a little divot he’s made in the soil. He’s dirty up to his elbows, and Mary thinks she’ll need to carry him all the way to the bath to make sure he doesn’t trek mud all through the house, but the sight of him so invested in what they’re doing is more than enough to justify that.

“It’s perfect, baby,” she tells him, and smiles at the way he lights up. Grabbing a nearby packet of seeds, she holds them up for Dean to see. “Hold your hands out for me, and you can plant the flowers, okay?”

Dean complies right away, cupping his hands together while Mary gently taps the packet and drops a few seeds into his hands. “Now you just have to drop them in the hole, and then we’ll cover it up with the soul again so they can grow. Sound good?”

Already, Dean’s doing as he’s told, nearly bouncing with excitement as he carefully deposits the seeds into the hole. He takes extra time to pick them off his hands, clearly intent on planting every single one of them. “Now fill it in?”

“That’s right.” Mary smiles again, reaching up to adjust the wide-brimmed sun hat she’s wearing while she watches Dean carefully return the dirt to the hole and pat it down. “They’re gonna grow up and be pretty flowers in a few weeks.”

“Does everything grow up and become pretty?” Dean asks with the utmost sincerity. It’s the kind of startling, hard-hitting question that she’s only ever heard come from young children, and Mary’s left unsure of how to respond, just watching Dean work for a moment in silence.

There’s only one answer she can really bring herself to offer. “Yes, sweetheart,” she says, her voice going soft as she reaches out to smooth Dean’s hair back. He’ll definitely need a bath when they go inside. “The world is a very pretty place.”

That’s the only part that she wants Dean to ever worry about. When he turns to beam at her, seeds planted in the ground and dirt smudged on his cheeks, Mary smiles at him again and reminds herself of why she’s fighting so hard to keep it to this. To planting flowers and sitting in the sunshine.

This is what her babies deserve. Not the parts of the world that are everything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	11. One-Hundred Thirty-One: Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They slip away while everybody else is still celebrating, off to one of the quieter parts of the bunker so they can catch their breath. Even so many hours after Sam’s return, Dean catches himself hovering, just short of hooking his fingertips into his brother’s shirt for the sense of physical reassurance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is immediately post-13.22, so spoilers for that. Just some soft brother stuff. Wincest-adjacent.

They slip away while everybody else is still celebrating, off to one of the quieter parts of the bunker so they can catch their breath. Even so many hours after Sam’s return, Dean catches himself hovering, just short of hooking his fingertips into his brother’s shirt for the sense of physical reassurance.

When they make it to his room and slip inside, Dean doesn’t bother holding back anymore.

He’s close as soon as the door closes behind them, finds Sam with his hands and pulls him in. Sam must be on the same page, because he hugs back just as fiercely, the two of them quiet and clinging and breathing each other in for another few seconds now that they’ve got the security for it. Dean closes his eyes and grounds himself in the warmth of Sam’s skin through the soft shirt he’s wearing and it takes a minute before he works up the ambition to speak.

“How you doing?” He’s quiet, still, and he only pulls away enough to look Sam in the eyes. He’s still got his fingers curled tight in Sam’s shirt, no intention of letting go any time soon. “I mean- Lucifer, all of it. Are you good?”

Sam exhales, and he glances away for a moment. Dean doesn’t rush him, and Sam speaks up when he’s ready. “You know what? I, uh- yeah. I am, actually.” Their eyes meet once more and Sam actually cracks a smile. “I mean… this feels like a win, you know? Maybe just a small one, but- we’ve got Mom. We’ve got Jack, and Bobby, and all those other people… we saved them.”

Dean smiles, too. Just a little. He tries hard not to think about the last time Sam got hopeful like this; there’s nothing he wants more than for his brother to keep this. “Yeah. We did. It’s a big one, huh?”

Sam’s smile grows, and then they’re hugging again, just because. They’ve got a whole lot to deal with, still- a couple dozen people to find beds for, the mess they left behind in the other universe, and god knows what else- but it can all wait for now. Right here, right this second, they can walk away with the win. They can feel good about this for tonight.

Dean’s got his little brother in his arms, and they’re safe at home. Everything else is just icing on the cake, and the bad stuff doesn’t seem to matter right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	12. One-Hundred Thirty-Two: Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam does not allow himself to feel guilty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one post-13.22. Sam stuff. Spoilers. etc.

Sam does not allow himself to feel guilty.

He doesn’t miss Jack’s expression when it comes out that Lucifer has been left behind in the other world. He knows, logically, that they’re going to have trouble getting back without a ready source of archangel grace; he’s holding out hope that Jack will be able to manage it on his own. And maybe a small part of him recognizes that whenever they do get back to return Bobby and his people to their home, they’ll still have to deal with Lucifer, assuming Michael didn’t just kill him on the spot. Maybe he’s just angry, now, given up on his half-assed redemption tour.

Sam knows all of this. But not for one second does he let himself feel bad about what he did.

After everything that Lucifer has done, all the people he’s hurt, all the chaos he’s wrought upon the world, all the suffering he’s been responsible for- after so many years of watching him go unpunished, Sam has finally found himself a tiny taste of justice. And maybe it’s more than that, too; maybe it’s the part of him that craves revenge, and that wants desperately to make Lucifer suffer, and maybe it’s a part of himself that he’s tried to outgrow, but.

Sometimes, he thinks, it’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to be vengeful. It’s okay to want to hurt somebody who’s caused so much harm, and Sam thinks that this is exactly what Lucifer deserves.

Judging by the look on Dean’s face, by the way his brother lights up and claps his shoulder and hands him a beer, he isn’t alone, either.

Lucifer has hurt too many people to be allowed in their home again. To walk among this group of survivors; to sink his claws into Jack as if he has any right to know his son. He’s done wrong at every opportunity, and Sam will not allow him to hurt anyone else.

As long as there’s a portal to close in his face, a cage to lock, a set of handcuffs to use- Sam will not feel guilty about giving Lucifer exactly what he deserves. Not the benefit of the doubt, not a thousandth chance to prove himself, and not an opportunity to wreak further havoc on the world.

Sam hopes against hope that Lucifer is dead the next time they open that door. And if it happens that he’s escaped Michael’s wrath and continues to walk free in that other world-

Well. Sam certainly won’t say no to finishing the job with his own two hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	13. One-Hundred Thirty-Three: Mother's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s Mother’s Day.” Dean sounds worried, the way he does when nobody’s in danger but he finds himself confronted with a situation he doesn’t know how to handle. It’s enough to get Sam’s attention. “There’s- there’s pink everywhere, Sam. Flowers and stuff. Special brunch deals. Brunch, Sam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tiny Mother's Day thing. Post-13.22, so spoilers again.

Sam’s phone starts ringing while he’s scanning through some books in the library, his brother’s name lighting up the display. Dean’s on a supply run- a necessity, now that they’ve got a couple dozen extra mouths to feed- so Sam can’t imagine what he needs, unless it’s a second opinion on what brand of paper towels he should spend his money on (something that’s happened a surprising number of times over the past couple years). Still, he picks up the phone, answering the call even as his eyes return to the text in front of him. “Hey.”

“It’s Mother’s Day.” Dean sounds worried, the way he does when nobody’s in danger but he finds himself confronted with a situation he doesn’t know how to handle. It’s enough to get Sam’s attention. “There’s- there’s pink everywhere, Sam. Flowers and stuff. Special brunch deals. Brunch, Sam.”

“Okay,” Sam says, because if he doesn’t speak up, Dean’s just going to keep talking. “Brunch. Mother’s Day. What about it?”

He shouldn’t have bothered asking. He knows what Dean’s going to say before his brother even opens his mouth. “Mom’s home.” And Dean’s voice has gone softer, uncertain. Sam still doesn’t really know how to talk to him about this kind of thing; it’s been a touchy subject for as long as he can remember. “And… I don’t know. Forget it, this is stupid-”

“Dean.” No sense in beating around the bush. “You think we should do something for Mom?”

Silence. Sam waits, knowing his brother well enough to not prod him any further. “Yeah,” Dean says eventually, and Sam smiles to himself. “I, um… I can pick up flowers or something. It’s weird with everybody else around, but- but maybe I can make dinner?”

“Sounds good to me.” Sam tips his head back to look up at the library’s ceiling. Truth be told, he thinks it might be easier with the other survivors filling out the extra space; there’s still a lot that goes unsaid between him and their mom, and he suspects that Dean doesn’t have solid footing with her yet, either. They’ve both got a long way to go, and it’ll be nice to have some buffer space in the form of other people. “Let’s just make it a big feast for everybody. I can help.”

“Only if you want to feed them charcoal.” The smile is audible in Dean’s voice, and Sam rolls his eyes. “You can preheat the oven. And maybe I’ll let you chop up some vegetables.”

“Lucky me.” They’re back to teasing and that’s good; that means that Dean’s not freaking out and that they’ve got a solid plan for what to do today. “I’ll see you soon, Dean.”

“Yeah.” Dean clears his throat, and Sam closes his eyes for a moment. “Thanks, Sammy.”

Sam sets the phone down to return to his work, though he’s smiling now with the thought of their plans for tonight. It might not be much, and it certainly won’t fix everything- he knows enough to recognize that a proper relationship with their mother is going to take both time and commitment from all parties- but it’ll be a nice little surprise to welcome her back home and remind her how much they love her.

It might not be much, but it’s a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	14. One-Hundred Thirty-Four: Relaxation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen’s just about ready to drift off to sleep, right here and now. It’s a lazy Sunday, and he finds himself on a park bench with the most important person in the entire world, the two of them resting in the afternoon sunshine and people-watching as other locals make their way trough the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((how many times have I used a variation of that title honestly))
> 
> Just a tiny soft J2 thing that isn't much of anything at all. High school AU thing again.

Jensen’s just about ready to drift off to sleep, right here and now. It’s a lazy Sunday, and he finds himself on a park bench with the most important person in the entire world, the two of them resting in the afternoon sunshine and people-watching as other locals make their way through the park.

Jared’s got his cheek resting on Jensen’s head, and Jensen can feel his boyfriend smiling, soft and serene. It’s a relaxed moment for the both of them, something quiet that they don’t normally have room for at school or when they squeeze in time together to go out to a restaurant. This is peaceful, and it’s what’s got Jensen’s eyelids feeling a little heavy, ready to close his eyes and relax a little further.

“Wish it was always like this,” Jared muses, echoing Jensen’s thoughts. “The weather, I mean. It’s nice.”

Jensen just hums, finally giving in and closing his eyes as he settles a little deeper into Jared’s side. Even his usual shyness seems to have eased up in the face of such a nice day; where he usually avoids such public displays of affection, this doesn’t feel so bad. He’s comfortable here and Jared feels warm and safe at his side. “Yeah. It’s not bad.”

Jared laughs softly and turns to muzzle against him. Jensen feels the brush of lips against his temple and can’t resist the urge to meet them with his own; it’s a chaste kiss, but a lingering one, and he’s left with a smile, their noses bumping together with no real space to separate them.

“C’mon, admit it,” Jared teases. “You love this.”

“Maybe a little.” Jensen smiles again and turns his face to press into Jared’s shoulder. Maybe he’s still a little bit conscious of the other people wandering around. “It’s pretty nice. Way better than sitting at a desk.”

“There you go.” Jared laughs and then kisses Jensen’s cheek again. “That’s the spirit.”

Jensen is perfectly content with that, and he’s hiding a smile as he settles against his boyfriend’s chest once more, Jared’s arm settling comfortably around his shoulders. They’ve got nowhere to be and nothing to do but spend time together, and if this is that what looks like, then Jensen is happy to oblige.

It’s nice to just take some time to relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	15. One-Hundred Thirty-Five: Chocolate Chips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean doesn’t make the connection until Sam spells it out for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean and some chocolate chip cookies and the memories they bring up.

Dean doesn’t make the connection until Sam spells it out for him.

He’s whipped up a simple batch of chocolate chip cookies, just a treat because they’ve got the ingredients lying around and he figures there’s no harm in having a little dessert after dinner tonight. They’re an easy go-to, though not one he’s actually ever gotten around to making before- not for his brother, anyways- and by the time Sam wanders into the kitchen in search of food, they’re neatly piled onto a plate on the counter, fresh out of the oven and waiting to be eaten.

The last thing Dean expects is the sudden dip in Sam’s expression.

“You okay?” he asks right away, and he’s sure the confusion comes through in his voice, but it’s mostly the concern. He leaves the steak to finish cooking and makes his way towards Sam. “You, uh… you look like you’ve seen a ghost, man.”

It’s a half-hearted attempt to make Sam smile, but if anything, it seems to make the whole situation worse. There’s something heavy and sad in Sam’s expression as he sits down at the table, something distant that Dean doesn’t know how to reach. “You- you made cookies.”

Dean glances back towards the cookies in question, wonders if he’s missing something obvious. “Yeah. Um… you’re not like… gluten-free or something now, right? I mean, they’re vegetarian, I guess, so there’s that, but- I mean. I can probably figure something out if it’s-”

“No, you- it’s not that.” Sam clears his throat, and Dean looks towards him again, catches a tiny, sad smile on his face. “It’s not you, Dean. Um- sorry.”

That doesn’t help one bit, and Dean’s at a complete loss for what’s put this look on his brother’s face, the one that makes Dean’s heart twist in sympathy. “What’s wrong, then?”

Sam stays quiet for so long, staring down at his hands, that Dean starts to accept that he isn’t going to get an answer. He’ll add chocolate chip cookies to his baking blacklist along with anything involving raisens, and he’ll never understand what about them set Sam off like this. The last thing he wants is to cause his brother any unnecessary pain, even if he doesn’t understand what’s even caused it in the first place.

“It’s- it’s Jess.”

But then Sam speaks up, finally, and it starts to make a little more sense.

Sam’s still looking down at he speaks, and he’s wearing that smile, again, tired and full of melancholy. Dean just watches him, quiet. “She- she used to make cookies. All the time. And sometimes they were really awful, but- but mostly she was good at it.” He hesitates, and Dean waits it out. He doesn’t want to push. Jessica has always been a painful subject. “When you dropped me off, after that case in Jericho… she’d left me a plate of cookies. Chocolate chip. They were sitting on the table, and there was a note, and- and-”

Dean doesn’t need to hear the rest of this particular story.

“I’m sorry.” And he doesn’t know what to say, either. Even more than a decade later, they’ve never talked about her very much, or about how important she was to Sam. It’s a huge blind spot in Dean’s knowledge of his brother, and he doesn’t know how to handle this. “I- I didn’t know.”

“Because I didn’t tell you.” Sam huffs out a soft breath and then finally looks up, giving Dean a tiny smile. “Just- don’t worry about it, okay? It’s, uh- it’s not a big deal.”

Dean watches his brother for a long moment and nods, at a loss for what else he can possibly do. After a few seconds of silence, he speaks up once more. “If you want to… talk, or whatever…”

“Yeah.” Sam clears his throat gently. “I know. Thanks, Dean.”

They leave it at that, and Dean goes back to preparing dinner, each of them quiet and lost in their own thoughts. Sam does end up eating a couple cookies, and he smiles all soft when he does it, and Dean wonders if maybe they don’t need to go on the blacklist, after all.

There’s still a lot they haven’t talked about, and a lot that maybe they never will, but Dean feels like he knows his brother just a little bit more with this tiny piece of information. At least this much, he understands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	16. One-Hundred Thirty-Six: Tattoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “See? It wasn’t that bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking about brothers and tattoos and. yes.

“See? It wasn’t that bad.”

Dean’s got a grin on his face, kicking his legs where they hang off the edge of the chair and watching his brother as Sam pulls his shirt back on over his head. They’re in a little hole-in-the-wall tattoo parlour and the both of them are finished up now, nothing but a faint ache left behind to remind Dean of the new mark on his skin. “Barely hurt at all.”

Sam rolls his eyes and tosses Dean his shirt. “You were the one freaking out before we came in.”

“Was not.” Dean wrinkles up his nose and hops off the chair, taking a moment to glance at the full-length mirror along one of the walls. The skin around the tattoo is reddened, but the lines are clear and strong, tracing out the anti-possession symbol into his chest. It’s foreign, but he likes the look of it. Quietly, he also likes the fact that Sam’s got the matched pair. “Looks kinda cool, huh?”

“C'mon, we’ve got stuff to do.” He can hear Sam already walking back towards the front desk, probably ready to pay their artist and apologize for Dean’s existence. It’s their usual routine. “And weren’t you hungry?”

Dean brightens at the reminder and pulls his shirt back on, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his blind hurry to join his brother. “Oh, hell yeah. Let’s get some steak or something.”

Sam laughs at him, and within a couple minutes they’re headed out to the car, the two of them bumping into each other as they walk in their usual way. Dean likes the thought that they’ve got something else, now, too- another tiny thing that connects them, that makes them a package deal. That makes them match.

It’s silly, and it’s juvenile, and it’s something he would never, ever admit to out loud, but it feels good to be half of a whole. As long as Sam stays right by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	17. One-Hundred Thirty-Seven: Possessed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s always wondered what it would actually feel like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for 13.23.

Dean’s always wondered what it would actually feel like.

After all these years, all the shit they’ve been through, he’s never actually been possessed. Not in the traditional sense, at least; not in the way his brother’s body has been taken out by a handful of supernatural creatures. Even Castiel has been worn like a suit, but Dean has never had that same experience. Never felt like he was a prisoner in his own head, never felt like he was- as Jimmy Novak had phrased it, nearly a decade ago- “chained to a comet”.

Not until now, at least, and he can’t help but think that Jimmy had the right idea.

Michael is overwhelming. Right from the start, right from the damn minute Dean parts his lips and lets the grace flow into him, it’s- it’s a  _lot_. It’s a lot like every single one of his nerves is on fire, or like his very soul is tingling with electricity, and Michael is  _holding back_. Michael has curled himself up at the back of Dean’s head, leaving his grace and his wings and allowing Dean to steer. He can barely even handle it at first, right up until everything kind of sinks into place and it’s like maybe he was built for this, after all. Built to house an archangel the way nobody else but Sam ever was.

Except that it gets worse again, so much fucking worse when that split second of  _“we did it”_  comes to a swift and violent end as that immense presence in him begins to grow; curls tight around the very core of his being and  _squeezes_. Squeezes so tight that Dean feels like he’s going to die, all at once, but still tries to fight back because he can’t let this happen. He can’t let Michael win, not with the flickers of destruction he can feel at the edge of his consciousness; not so soon after this moment of victory.

“We had a  _deal!_ ”

He fights, and he loses, and suddenly Dean is the one shoved into a dark and distant corner of his own body.

Michael keeps him awake just long enough to see the shift in Sam’s expression, the realization and the horror. The church vanishes between one heartbeat and the next, and before Dean can think to fight a little longer, to make this as hard on Michael as he possibly can until his very soul gives out-

“You’ve had a long day, kid,” Michael tells him when they’re far, far away somewhere, and it’s condescending, and Dean struggles. “Time for bed.”

He’s got no choice left in this matter, and awareness is stolen away from him in one fell swoop, leaving darkness and a certain lack of existence that sets Dean floating.

One thought slips through the haze, a whisper against the oppressive emptiness that has, for the moment, become Dean’s entire existence.

_At least Sammy is safe._

Right here, right now, nothing else really matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	18. One-Hundred Thirty-Eight: Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first few seconds, Sam just feels numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More spoilers for 13.23.

For the first few seconds, Sam just feels numb.

He can hear Dean’s voice, still, Michael’s words coming out of his brother’s mouth. The flutter of wings before he’d vanished, off to do God knows what to the rest of the world. The silence that followed, nearly deafening, as he stands with Jack in this little church and tries to process everything that’s just happened.

“Sam?” Jack’s the one who breaks it. Sam doesn’t blink, his eyes still fixed on the empty space where Dean stood mere minutes ago. “What- what are we going to do?”

And he sounds- he sounds scared. Jack sounds young and lost and scared, and maybe that’s what brings Sam back to reality, if only a little bit. This quiet, timid reminder that he isn’t alone this time. He can’t afford to check out right now.

“I, uh-” He stops, swallows hard. Finally tears his eyes away from the air in front of him and turns to face Jack, instead. Jack who is suddenly running short on grace, something that could have any number of consequences that he can’t begin to imagine. Will it regenerate? Did Lucifer take it all? Did it hurt? And there’s the body on the floor, too; the empty shell left behind by Dean’s assault on the Devil himself. Maybe they need to deal with that instead of leaving the mess for somebody else to find, but. “I don’t know.”

There’s too much to deal with right now. Sam can’t even begin to address the crushing fear that’s building in his chest, filling up the part of him where his big brother resides, and he forces himself to put that aside for now. Dean needs him, and Sam has every intention to get him back, but- but-

Baby steps. He’s not alone.

“We need to go home.” He breathes out hard and meets Jack’s eyes. Tries to stay steady because he’s the adult here and Jack must be terrified, having his power stripped away, and he’s got to be scared for Dean, too, and- and Sam can handle this. He can be strong. He needs to be. “And then we’ll figure out the rest.”

Jack watches him quietly before nodding, and when he reaches out, Sam meets him halfway. The hug doesn’t do much to fix anything, but it gives him a moment to breathe and provides the quiet reassurance that he won’t be left to deal with this by himself.

They’ll find Dean, and they’ll kill Michael. They’ll fix this.

“It’ll be okay,” he mumbles without letting go. “We’ll be okay.”

He just needs to figure out where to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	19. One-Hundred Thirty-Nine: Careful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After spending so much time getting used to Jared’s nocturnal schedule, it throws Jensen off to be out and about during the day again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the j2 vampire thing, and apparently we've had enough of this AU being entirely soft. 
> 
> I'll probably write the next bit to this tomorrow. Maybe.

After spending so much time getting used to Jared’s nocturnal schedule, it throws Jensen off to be out and about during the day again. The sun is warm on his skin, there are people scattered on the sidewalks and inside of stores, and perhaps strangest of all, Jensen is alone. Jared’s back at home, resting like he usually does during the daylight hours, and Jensen’s left to run a few errands. With the days getting longer, it’s harder to get any shopping done when he’s forced to wait until nightfall, so he finally gave in and decided to head out on his own.

“Be careful,” Jared tells him sternly before he leaves, though it comes out a little soft around the edges. He looks tired and worried, and Jensen thinks it’s cute. “And don’t be out too long, okay? And don’t talk to strangers.”

Jensen decides not to remind Jared that he’s a fully functional adult. Sometimes, it’s just better to humour him. “Alright. I promise.”

And he’s got every intention of keeping that promise, too. He needs to do some groceries, visit the bank, pick up some other supplies. It’s not a lot, and leaving the house around noon, he figures he’ll be back soon enough to crawl into bed with Jared and get a few hours of shut-eye before his boyfriend becomes more active. Just a quick few hours out to town, and he’ll be ready to go back to his backwards life.

That’s the plan, anyways. Things don’t end up going quite the way they’re supposed to.

Jensen makes his first stop at the bank, and it’s on his way out that he gets the feeling he’s being watched. He doesn’t let himself freak out, because- hell, it’s the middle of the day. He’s in public. And he’s not exactly defenseless, either; whatever weird paranoia has set in, he’s sure he can handle himself. He pats his pocket to make sure his wallet is where it’s supposed to be, and then continues on his way, humming to distract himself and wondering if he can talk Jared into trying some fresh fruits when he gets home.

He doesn’t notice that he’s being followed until it’s too late to do anything about it.

Maybe it’s a dead part of town, or maybe it’s the midday lull that comes with lunchtime; whatever the case, the street is mostly empty. It doesn’t bother Jensen until he’s being grabbed, suddenly, a fist in his shirt that yanks him backwards and nearly topples him right over; leaves him stumbling off the sidewalk and into an alley between two stores. The grip doesn’t loosen, just jerks at him again until he’s spun around and facing his attacker.

“Empty your pockets,” the guys says harshly. Jensen takes one look at him, top to bottom, and decides that he isn’t armed. “Or you’ll regret it.”

Jensen breathes out slow and remembers Jared’s warnings to be careful. He thinks he can take care of himself, though. He’s not exactly a small guy, and this is nothing. This is an inconvenience.

Jared doesn’t even need to know.

“I’m good, actually,” he says, and watches the guy narrow his eyes. “Now, uh, if you don’t mind, I’ve actually got some more errands to run, so-”

That’s when he half-turns, intent on walking right back out of the alley and going on his way. And it might’ve worked, too, if it weren’t for the two other guys standing there, waiting for him.

One of them is holding a knife, the other has a taser, and Jensen feels his stomach drop all at once.

“I told you,” the first guy says lowly, “to empty your pockets.”

The guy with the tazer moves first, and everything gets kind of blurry after that.

He really hadn’t meant to break his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	20. One-Hundred Forty: Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen’s been gone for three hours when Jared begins to worry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampire AU again.

Jensen’s been gone for three hours when Jared begins to worry.

He’s supposed to be resting, but he can’t help himself; he’s jittery and nervous going so long without hearing from his boyfriend. His fragile, breakable, human boyfriend. Logically, Jensen’s done just fine living all by himself for years before they met, and he’s just going out to get some groceries, and he should be perfectly capable of taking care of himself. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but something about today has given Jared a bad feeling, and he finds himself pacing, eyes darting between a clock on the wall and the front door as if it’ll make Jensen return to him any more quickly.

Three hours, and not a word.

His phone rings thirty minutes later.

It doesn’t even make it through the first cycle of the sound; he rushes across the room and nearly crushes the thing in his hand. He needs to calm down. “Hello?”

“Jared Padalecki?”

It’s not Jensen’s voice, and Jared deflates, just about ready to hang up on what he assumes to be a telemarketer. “Uh- yeah. Who is this?”

“My name is Lucy Graves. I’m a nurse at Woodland General Hospital, and we’ve got a man here- Jensen Ackles- who had you listed as his emergency contact.”

Those words take a little bit too long to process. “What?”

Everything blurs together as Jared struggles to keep himself standing there with the phone pressed to his ear. There was an attack, he’s told. Multiple assailants. Jensen’s hurt, bad. Unconscious. Broken ribs, concussion, deep bruising, knife wounds-

“-he hasn’t woken up yet, but the doctors are doing everything they can-”

“I’m on my way,” Jared says faintly, and he hangs up the phone. He turns to the front door, singularly focused on getting to Jensen as quickly as possible, calculating the shortest route to the hospital and whether or not he’ll be seen on his way there, and he reaches out and starts to open the door and-

And the sun is still sitting high in the sky, not a single cloud present to obscure it.

He keeps the door open long enough to feel the threat of a burn before slamming it shut, trembling because he can’t. He can’t go to Jensen, not until the sun sets, and it’s- it’s going to be hours before he can leave the house. Hours that Jensen will spend in pain, maybe dying, completely alone in a strange place with strange people and Jared can’t do a single fucking thing about it.

He slides to the floor right there in the hallway, eyes unseeing as he tries to process the feeling that’s overwhelming him right now, making it hard to breathe. It’s something he hasn’t experienced in decades, maybe longer, and as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to regain some semblance of control, its name comes to the tip of his tongue.

Fear. This is what it’s like to be terrified.

He hates it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	21. One-Hundred Forty-One: One Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One bite. That’s all it would take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampires again.

One bite. That’s all it would take.

Jensen still hasn’t woken up. He looks small and fragile and so, so pale in the hospital bed, hooked up to half a dozen machines and all bandaged up since the doctors had finished with him. The room is quiet, and the moon peeking in through the window serves as its main source of light. Only the steady beeping of a heart monitor breaks the silence, and for Jared, it doesn’t make much of a difference.

Visiting hours are over, but compulsion is second-nature for Jared and it isn’t hard to convince the nurse to forget that he’s here. Not that it matters; he’s not causing any trouble, and he needs to be here. He can’t leave Jensen’s side.

The fear still lingers, even with one of Jensen’s hands cradled gently between his own and the mechanical reassurance that Jensen’s vitals are stable. Jared can’t help himself, not after hours of panic, praying for the sun to go down just a little bit early tonight, wondering if it would be worth the risk to just grab an umbrella. Hours apart and even now that he’s here by Jensen’s side, there’s still nothing he can do.

Except for one thing. One extreme thing.

It’s not a conversation they’ve really had before. Jensen has asked, of course, out of curiosity; has wondered whether or not Jared feeding on him would be enough to change him. He knows the mechanics of it because Jared has explained them to him, but they’ve never- they’ve never-

They’ve never talked about a situation like this.

Jared has thought about changing Jensen. In passing, mostly; in those moments where he’s as close to sleep as he can get and his mind wanders and he thinks about spending the rest of his existence with this particular little human right by his side. Humans don’t live terribly long, though, so of course it would be necessary to make Jensen like him, but that’s a thought for the future. A long-term plan they haven’t had time to make yet.

The doctors tell him that Jensen should make a full recovery- should, probably, they’re hopeful- but it doesn’t stop Jared from fearing they might never make those plans, after all.

Could he really turn Jensen without talking to him first, though?

The uncertainty plagues him as he closes his eyes, holding onto his boyfriend’s hand and feeling the rush of blood under his skin and- for the first time in a very, very long time- praying.

“Don’t let him go,” he mumbles, and he presses his lips to Jensen’s hand to whisper it right against his skin. “Please. Jensen, don’t leave me.”

There’s a long, quiet night ahead of Jared, and he doesn’t intend on moving any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	22. One-Hundred Forty-Two: Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His hearing comes first. _Beep, beep, beep,_ and not a whole lot else; it’s a soundscape that clicks in his memory as _hospital_ and he doesn’t have time to worry about that before the pain begins to make itself known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andddd another with the vampires.

Jensen is slow to wake. His body feels like it’s made of lead, trying to drag him back down into the comforting embrace of unconsciousness, but a very urgent whisper at the back of his head tells him that he needs to open his eyes. He doesn’t know for sure that it’s trustworthy- the closer he gets to waking up, the more he wishes he could just slip back under again- but it’s too late to turn back as awareness creeps into his mind and the rest of the world starts to put itself together around him.

His hearing comes first. _Beep, beep, beep,_  and not a whole lot else; it’s a soundscape that clicks in his memory as  _hospital_ and he doesn’t have time to worry about that before the pain begins to make itself known. His entire body aches, and a few spots are worse than others; his shoulder, his torso, one of his hands. His head is throbbing, too, and he must make some kind of sound in response, because there’s a sudden flurry of activity by his side and then a voice. A familiar voice.

“Jensen?”

Jared’s here. The knowledge brings Jensen immeasurable relief, and enough ambition to finally crack his eyes open, just a slit. The room is dark, unsurprisingly, and he can make out Jared’s form leaning over him, over the bed he must be in. The pieces start to put themselves together very slowly, and it’s frustrating to be so groggy. “Mm.”

“God, Jensen,” Jared whispers, and when he moves closer, he’s gentler than normal. He’s always seemed very conscious of his own strength, but now it’s like Jensen is spun from glass, liable to shatter at the touch; his fingertips barely brush Jensen’s cheek, and they’re trembling. That’s scarier than anything else so far. “You’re awake.”

Jensen tries to respond- to form some more coherent words- but his throat is dry and he just blinks helplessly until Jared understands, moving to grab a bottle of water from a table nearby. In the brief moment he’s gone, Jensen tries to think back, to remember how he ended up here, and- and it’s not as hard as he thought it might be.

Three guys. They’d wanted his wallet, and whatever else he had on him. He hadn’t stood a chance.

“Here,” Jared says when he returns with the water, and he helps Jensen drink, a worried furrow in his brow. As Jensen’s eyes adjust and his brain gets moving again, it’s a little easier to make out his boyfriend’s expression. Jared is worried and scared and relieved, and Jensen… well. He’s not surprised. “Better?”

Jensen clears his throat gently, then tries to speak again. “I, um- yeah. Thanks.” A little rough, but it’ll do. “How- how long was I-?”

“Three days.” And god, Jared looks wrecked when he says it. Jensen feels a pang of guilt, thinking about how hard that must’ve been. “I- I was starting to think you wouldn’t…”

They both fall quiet for a moment, and Jensen lets out a breath. “Um… does this bed sit up?”

Between the two of them, they manage to get Jensen upright, and all it accomplishes is highlighting all the parts of his body that are aching, or worse. His abdomen, in particular, is not happy with him. His memories of the attack are hazy, at best, but he can make some guesses about what happened.

He takes a moment to glance around the room, trying to get his bearings. There aren’t any other beds or patients present, and the blinds to the hallway are shut. The curtains are drawn over the window, too, though Jensen can guess based on the glow behind them that the sun is up. It stumps him, and he turns back to Jared, at a loss. “How… how are you even here?”

Jared’s smile is tired and sad. “I wasn’t just gonna leave you here by yourself.”

Jensen feels guilty all over again, but he tries to swallow it, fingers curling tight in the bedsheet. “You… you didn’t have to. It’s not safe.”

Jared’s hand finds his, and when Jensen looks over, Jared’s expression has softened. “I wanted to be here,” he says. “I don’t want you to be alone. Ever.”

A lump forms in Jensen’s throat, and he tugs Jared closer until they’re holding each other properly. Jensen’s body protests but he ignores it, clinging to his boyfriend and taking deep breaths and forgetting about everything else for a few blissful seconds.

There’s a lot they need to talk about, and a lot of questions Jensen has to ask. He needs time to heal, and Jared can’t leave until the sun’s gone down again, and everything might be a big mess right now. It might take a while for things to go back to how they’re supposed to be.

None of that seems to matter when he’s got Jared close like this, the two of them quiet as they settle against each other. None of it seems important as long as he’s not alone.

The rest of the world and all of its problems are going to have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	23. One-Hundred Forty-Three: Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The old Harris mansion is steeped in mystery, sitting by itself at the edge of town on a dozen acres of unkempt land. After its owners died- suspicious circumstances, according to the rumours- it had been left abandoned, and it’s been that way for decades, rotting to bits and earning local legend status, an ominous silhouette on the way into and out of town.
> 
> The legend also says it’s haunted, and that’s the part that Dean Smith finds extremely difficult to believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small Swesson boys.

The old Harris mansion is steeped in mystery, sitting by itself at the edge of town on a dozen acres of unkempt land. After its owners died- suspicious circumstances, according to the rumours- it had been left abandoned, and it’s been that way for decades, rotting to bits and earning local legend status, an ominous silhouette on the way into and out of town.

The legend also says it’s haunted, and that’s the part that Dean Smith finds extremely difficult to believe.

He’s been raised with a good head on his shoulders and a no-nonsense attitude. He knows better than to buy into ghost stories, especially the kinds that his classmates tell during their lunch break, whispering and nudging each other in hopes of getting a reaction. Dean ignores it all, choosing instead to focus on his meal and, when he can get away with it, his homework.

That works just fine until Sam Wesson is the one doing the nudging.

“C'mon, you have to be at least a little bit curious,” Sam insists one day, and though Dean tries his damnedest, he knows it isn’t any use. Though he’d been hesitant when Sam first approached him- they’re both juniors, but otherwise, they don’t have much in common- he’s accidentally fallen into a friendship with the other boy, and-

Well. Okay, maybe he feels just a little bit more than friendly with Sam. It doesn’t help when Sam looks at him pleadingly, clearly trying to bite back a smile. “Please? We can go check it out tonight, just you and me. Sneak in, give it a look. If you’re right, then it’ll just be a creepy old house. I’ll buy you a milkshake or something to make up for it.”

“And if you’re right?” Dean can’t help but ask, because he can’t think straight when Sam’s looking at him like that. “If it’s full of ghosts?”

Sam finally breaks into a grin, and he elbows Dean gently. “Then we’ll just have to win them over, won’t we?”

Dean takes in Sam’s dimples and the way his hair curls around his ears, and he caves.

It’s how they end up outside the Harris place that night, side-by-side as they hike up the long driveway. Dean’s never seen the house up close before, and already, it’s creeping him out. The sun had set about half an hour ago, and the moon is just a sliver overhead, leaving them mostly shrouded in darkness. Dean holds his flashlight like a lifeline, four extra sets of batteries stuffed into his pockets in case it dies. Sam doesn’t seem nearly as worried, humming cheerfully and leading the way. Their parents think they’re just having a late study session at the library, and he feels bad about lying, but.

When he glances at Sam and sees the smile on his friend’s face, Dean decides he can live with it.

“Isn’t it cool?” Sam whispers to him, and Dean bites his lip, looking back towards the house. They’ve almost reached it now, and he can imagine a cloud of bats bursting out of the upstairs window. It’s a scene straight from a horror movie, and he’s pretty sure this is the part where they get murdered. “I mean, man, the history of this place…”

He trails off as they get closer, and Dean takes a moment to mentally catalogue all the safety hazards in his line of sight. Rotted stairs, broken windows, sagging foundations… ghosts or not, he’s not sure this is a great idea. “Are we even allowed to be here?”

“Maybe.” Sam pauses for a moment. “Not exactly. But I mean, it’s not like they’ve got guards posted, or security cameras, so… as long as we don’t get caught, we should be fine.”

It’s not terribly reassuring, but before Dean can protest, Sam’s already making his way ahead, unaware of or unbothered by the way the steps creak dangerously under his weight. “Come on, let’s check it out! There’s gotta be all kinds of cool stuff in here.”

Against his better judgement, Dean follows along, and he chooses to blame it on the way his heart stutters when Sam smiles at him. He winces on his way up the steps and makes it to Sam’s side just in time to watch his friend push the door open. “We should be careful, though, shouldn’t we? I mean… somebody’s gotta own this place, right?”

Sam hums in acknowledgement, but he’s already going inside, taking the first few steps into a decrepit foyer. Admittedly, Dean can see that it must have been beautiful in its time. High ceilings, sweeping staircase, and cracked marble under their feet. He’s so caught up in trying to imagine what it used to look like that he nearly misses the sudden creaking noise coming from another room.

He might’ve, at least, if Sam hadn’t immediately latched onto his arm.

“Did you hear that?” Sam whispers, and he’s swinging his flashlight around like he’s searching for something. “I mean- it was probably just the wind or something, but-”

Another sound, closer. Dean tenses up, and Sam lets out a squeak.

“What the hell?” Dean mumbles, and when the third sound seems to be nearly in the room with them, he’s abruptly yanked backwards, Sam all but dragging him towards the door. “Sam, hey, just- just hold on-”

Sam ignores him, and within the span of a few seconds, they’re out of the house, past the creaky steps, and a dozen feet down the driveway, only pausing to catch their breath. Sam’s still got a death grip on Dean’s arm, but Dean doesn’t mention it, deciding he kind of likes the contact. “You, um- you okay?”

Sam takes a moment to respond, and he still sounds breathless when he does. “Yeah. Um… sorry.”

Dean straightens up slowly, glancing back towards the house once more. They’ve left the door open, but otherwise, it looks pretty much exactly the same as when they got here. “I, uh- I thought you wanted to see some ghosts?”

“Well… I mean, yeah, but…” Sam trails off, clearing his throat before continuing. “I didn’t want to like… you know. Accidentally get you killed or whatever on our first date.”

That’s the last thing that Dean expects to hear, and maybe it’s the hint of adrenaline, but he can feel the warmth rush to his cheeks. “You… date?”

A beat passes. “Did I- I mean- I meant to say, um.” Sam clears his throat again, more deliberate, and he’s very much avoiding Dean’s gaze. Despite this, he hasn’t let go of Dean’s arm. “Our first outing as… paranormal investigators. Like the Ghostbusters. But there’s only two of us, and… yeah. So. That.”

Dean watches him for a moment and catches a matching blush growing on Sam’s face. He smiles, the creepy house forgotten for a moment as he builds up his nerve. “You know… it’s not too late to go get that milkshake. If you want.”

Sam meets his eyes, quiet for a moment before he slowly lights up. “Really?”

“If you’re paying for it,” Dean adds with a little huff, biting back a smile. “Because I didn’t see one single ghost tonight.”

Sam grins, and then he’s turning to lead the way back down the driveway towards where Dean parked his car. “Deal. It’s on me.”

Dean smiles, too, and when Sam finally releases his arm, Dean takes the initiative to grab his hand, instead. Maybe this little outing didn’t go exactly as planned- whether it was a couple mouses or an actual ghost, apparently they’re not cut out for this line of work- but he’s more than pleased with the end result.

Spending time with Sam is more fun than hunting for ghosts in his book, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	24. One-Hundred Forty-Four: Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just like everything else these days, the sex is sloppy and desperate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wincest.

Just like everything else these days, the sex is sloppy and desperate.

Dean doesn’t know what he’s trying to get out of this, the way he goads Sam on with little gasps and moans, whispering his brother’s name and digging blunt nails into smooth skin and pulling closer, closer,  _closer_. Closer until there’s no room to breathe, until Sam’s body pressed against his is suffocating, until it drowns out every voice in his head telling him that  _it’s your fault, it’s your fault, it’s your **FAULT**._

Maybe it’s because he knows how rough Sam can be when he gets lost in these moments. Every bruise pressed into Dean’s skin offers something to focus on that isn’t the bloody gash left in his heart where their father has been torn away from them by the thing they’ve spent so long trying to kill. The physical ache is easier to deal with, so he tightens his legs around Sam’s waist and presses closer until Sam’s fingertips are digging into his hips, hard, right into the ones he left last time and Dean clings to that with everything he’s got.

_It’s your fault._

And fuck; nothing about this is healthy. Dean figures he’s a shrink’s wet dream, coaxing his baby brother into fucking him stupid to avoid grieving like a normal person. He’s never been good at losing people and Dad- Dad was half of his world. Dad was the structure and guidance he so desperately needs, and after months chasing him around the country and finally finding him again, he’s just-

Sam presses in deeper, grunts. Fills him up right to his breaking point. The room is quiet but for the sounds of them moving against each other, and Dean feels like it doesn’t reflect the chaos in his head.

“C'mon, Sammy,” he says, breathless, because it’s not enough. None of this is enough, not for the pain he needs to bury. “I don’t wanna be able to walk tomorrow, little brother.”

He thinks Sam worries about him, about all of this, but right now, the look on his face- Dean catches a glimpse of it before Sam ducks his head down against Dean’s shoulder and goes to work ploughing him into the mattress, and it makes something twist in his chest. A knife, maybe.

Sam’s humouring him, plain as day, but as long as he keeps the pity to himself and keeps hitting that spot when Dean tilts his hips just right-

Fuck. Dean’s willing to take whatever he can get at this point. He’s always been good at living in denial, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	25. One-Hundred Forty-Five: Puppy Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean catches Sam’s hand in the school’s hallway, taking advantage of the flood of students making their way to their next classes. He’s got his brother’s schedule memorized, of course, and this is the time of day when they pass each other most closely; Dean’s on his way to calculus and Sam’s got biology down the hall.
> 
> He figures it won’t hurt if they’re a little bit late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High school fluff with Sam and Dean. Think "After School Special".

Dean catches Sam’s hand in the school’s hallway, taking advantage of the flood of students making their way to their next classes. He’s got his brother’s schedule memorized, of course, and this is the time of day when they pass each other most closely; Dean’s on his way to calculus and Sam’s got biology down the hall.

He figures it won’t hurt if they’re a little bit late.

“Dean,” Sam whispers when Dean tugs him off into a smaller hallway, out of the way of everybody else. Nobody’s paying them any attention; they’re still the new kids here and not worth anyone’s time. Dean focuses on tugging open the broom closet and pulling his brother along with him. “Dean, I’m gonna be late-”

“Just for a minute.” Dean quiets the protests with a grin, pulling Sam in close until he can shut the door behind them. It’s dark in here, but he thinks he likes that better as he nudges his brother up against the wall, ducking down to nose against Sam’s throat. “Missed you.”

Sam goes soft under him in the blink of an eye, though he still grumbles unhappily. “I’ll get in trouble if I’m not there for attendance.”

“I’ll write you a note.” Dean just hums, leaving butterfly kisses along Sam’s pulse point and resting his hands on his brother’s hips. If they’re going to be late anyways, why even bother showing up for class? “D'you miss me, too?”

Sam heaves a sigh, but when Dean peeks up to check his expression, he’s fighting a smile. “Maybe. Just a little bit, though.”

Dean beams at that, finally moving in to kiss Sam properly, easy and chaste. They get plenty of time alone when Dad’s out of town, but they spend too much time together for Dean to reasonably be able to live through eight hours of education without a visit. He’s only human. “How ‘bout we take a drive? I’ll call in, say you got sick. We can get ice cream or something.”

Sam’s hesitating, but Dean watches him close and sees the shift in his expression when he gives in. “Only if you take me to the library to study tonight. The big one.”

“Deal.” Dean agrees without hesitation, then leans in for another kiss, letting it linger a few extra seconds this time. Without pulling away, he mumbles against Sam’s lips, “it’ll be worth it. Promise.”

They stay there a couple more minutes, exchanging tiny kisses and skimming hands over clothing. Everything is like this with them, gentle and soft, and Dean’s a little bit obsessed with it. A little bit obsessed with his baby brother. Head over heels, maybe.

The sneak out the back together, and then they’ve got the whole day ahead of them, fingers linked and no responsibilities. School wasn’t doing them much good, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	26. One-Hundred Forty-Six: Intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hold still,” Dean says quietly. “Almost done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H/C + brothers + Wincest-adjacent.

“Hold still,” Dean says quietly. “Almost done.”

Sam’s not moving much, anyways, but the absent reminders are a little more comfortable than the silence. Dean prefers the sound of his own voice to the tiny hitches of breath that escape Sam when he isn’t gentle enough. It’s easier for the both of him if he keeps talking.

It’s late in the evening, the two of them sitting together on the edge of one of the motel beds while Dean works to clean up a nasty cut on Sam’s arm; a messy gash, but not a fatal one. Both of them are fresh out of the shower- best to wash up the dirt and grime before bothering with first aid- and dressed in soft sleep clothes, ready to crawl under the covers as soon as this is done.

Even with his eyes down, Dean can feel his brother watching him. He’s close enough to hear Sam breathing, too, and he likes that, privately. Moments like these- the quiet ones they spend bandaging each other’s wounds- are the most intimate they’re allowed to be with each other while the lights are on, and Dean knows well enough to enjoy it while he can.

It doesn’t take long to finish tying off the bandage, and he makes sure everything is in place before pulling his hands away, immediately aching for the contact again. Sam’s always warm to the touch, and Dean misses that every second they’re apart. “I think you’ll make it. Feel better?”

Sam nods, moving his arm experimentally. “Yeah, s’good. Thanks.”

Dean nods, and they don’t quite make eye contact as he stands up off the bed. This is the part where they separate, get ready for bed individually, and then somehow end up together despite every effort made to stay apart. It’s not healthy, Dean thinks. It’s not normal. “I, uh… I’ll be right back.”

He slips into the bathroom on his own and spends a moment just listening to Sam shuffle around the other room. He looks down at the smudges of blood on his hands and moves towards the sink, wondering which one of them will bridge the gap tonight. He used to keep track until it didn’t seem worth the effort.

Sam’s already in bed when Dean returns, so Dean switches off the light and crawls into his own. Sam mumbles “goodnight” and Dean makes a sound in return, and then Dean closes his eyes and pretends like he’s able to sleep without his little brother curled up close, their hearts beating in sync and their legs tangled together.

Sam breaks first, crawling into Dean’s bed without a sound. Dean breathes a little easier and presses tight against him.

Whatever this is, at least they know it works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	27. One-Hundred Forty-Seven: Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared’s running late. It’s hardly out of the ordinary- he’s awful at keeping on schedule as a rule- but today is when it matters most. He had to pull a lot of strings to make this work, called in a few favours, and stretched his budget to its absolute limit, so he needs to get to the store before it closes. He can’t wait one more day for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another J2 AU, this time inspired by _Detroit: Become Human_. Android!Jensen.

Jared’s running late. It’s hardly out of the ordinary- he’s awful at keeping on schedule as a rule- but today is when it matters most. He had to pull a lot of strings to make this work, called in a few favours, and stretched his budget to its absolute limit, so he needs to get to the store before it closes. He can’t wait one more day for this.

Luckily, traffic seems to be running in his favour. Most cars are automated, these days, and things run a lot smoother with human error removed from the equation. He spends the last few minutes of the trip picking paint out from under his nails, a whole lot more nervous than he probably should be. He doesn’t need to make a good impression today. It’s not like the synthetic is going to care.

Despite all that, he catches himself smoothing down his hair when the car finally parks, taking a steadying breath before he climbs out and heads for the front door. This late in the day, the crowds have already passed through, so it’s almost empty when he steps inside. Mostly, it’s just populated with the selection of synthetics on sale, most of them already in a powered-down state. Jared ignores them all, heading straight to the service counter and smiling at the attendant. “Hey. I’m here to pick up an order. Should be under Padalecki?”

The man just nods at him, looking distracted. He types something on his keyboard, then straightens up. “Of course. Right this way, sir.”

Jared follows the man to the back of the store, glancing at the different displays as he goes. Housekeeping units, childcare units, security units. The older ones are farther back while the shiny new models sit centre stage, boasting the widest range of functionality as well as the highest prices. “You sell a lot of these?”

“Thousands.” The attendant seems uninterested, and Jared suspects he’s eager to finish his shift. “Here. This one’s yours.”

He’s stopped in front of one of the synthetics, powered down. A male body, short hair, fair skin tone. Dressed in the same uniform as all the rest. Jared watches as the attendant powers it up, then steps back, waiting while it comes to life.

The first thing that Jared notices is the colour of its eyes.

“It’s all yours,” he’s told, but Jared just stares, watches as the synthetic smiles at him. He’s got freckles, too. The level of detail is astonishing. “Tell it your name, then you can pick one for it, if you want. It’ll respond to its serial number for now. 494.”

“494,” Jared mumbles, and the synthetic watches him. “I’m Jared. Jared Padalecki. I’m your new owner.”

“Ownership registered.” With a nod, the synthetic straightens up, something flickering in its eyes before it smiles again. “Would you like to name me, Mr. Padalecki?”

He’ll have to get used to this. “Yeah. Uh- Jensen. How’s Jensen sound?”

The synthetic- Jensen- nods at him. “It sounds perfect,” it- he?- says simply, and it’s already hard to tell that he isn’t human. That he’s made of plastic and metal and other non-biological pieces. “Thank you, Mr. Padalecki.”

Jared nods, turning to leave and expecting Jensen to follow him. He still feels a little overwhelmed by all this, by making the decision to buy one in the first place, but… but something feels right about it, too. He needs companionship, and people are too complicated. Won’t hurt to have some help around the house, either. “Yeah, okay. Just, uh- call me Jared.”

Whatever happens, he just hopes it’s worth the money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	28. One-Hundred Forty-Eight: Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey. Move over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brothers and bed-sharing.

“Hey. Move over.”

Dean doesn’t even open his eyes. Sam’s voice is quiet, barely above a whisper for the sake of their sleeping father; it’s the dead of night and he gets grouchy when he’s disturbed.

Dad’s started insisting that Sam and Dean sleep separately, citing the fact that Dean’s almost twenty and brothers shouldn’t be  _that_  close, right? Dean had nodded along like usual, and even Sam hadn’t kicked up much of a fuss. He’s getting a little better at picking his battles, and it seems that this isn’t the hill he wants to die on. Not to Dad’s face, at least.

Dean does as he’s told and wiggles a little bit to the side; he’s got the old secondhand cot after losing rock-paper-scissors, and he doesn’t have much space to begin with. It doesn’t seem to bother Sam, and he doesn’t waste any time in sliding right in alongside Dean. Makes himself right at home, gangly teenage limbs all over the place until he nestles in close and tucks his head into the crook of Dean’s neck.

“Can’t sleep?” Dean asks him quietly. Both of them are prone to nightmares, but Sam shakes his head. Dean feels his brother’s fingers curling tight in the fabric of his shirt.

“Missed you,” Sam whispers instead, and they both stop talking after that, too sleepy to hold a proper conversation.

Still, that lingers with Dean. Past the fact that they’re too old for this, too close for brothers. Past the doubts that have sunk their claws into him, that force him to wonder if maybe he’s wrong for wanting to keep Sam so close. If he’s hurting his little brother by being this way.

With Sam curled up safe and warm in his arms, the two of them slotted together perfectly on the too-small bed, Dean thinks that none of it matters, not one bit. Not so long as they have this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	29. One-Hundred Forty-Nine: Staring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared can’t stop staring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Android thing again.

Jared can’t stop staring. The whole way home, he finds himself sneaking glances at the synthetic in the back of the car, sitting complacently and seeming entirely unconcerned by the whole thing. Jensen doesn’t point it out, which just makes Jared feel a little guilty, and he finally manages to put his attention elsewhere when they pull into his driveway.

“We’re here,” he says unnecessarily, throwing one last glance over his shoulder before opening the door to let himself out. “Uh… welcome home.”

He leads the way to the front door without looking back, hearing the car’s other door open and close again before a second set of footsteps joins him. Jensen’s voice pipes up as Jared unlocks the house. “It’s a beautiful home, Mr. Padalecki.”

“Jared,” Jared corrects absently. “And… thanks?”

He still isn’t entirely sure how to handle this situation. Maybe this decision has been too impulsive; he doesn’t know what to do with a synthetic, how he’s supposed to act. Everybody seems to have different ideas on how to deal with such a high level of artificial intelligence, and it’s still an extremely controversial topic. With Jensen, Jared doesn’t even know where to begin.

Thankfully, Jensen takes that moment to help him out.

“What would you like me to do?” he asks as they step into the front foyer. It’s a family home, and one that Jared has put a lot of work into restoring. He’s the only one left here, but it holds a lot of memories for him, and it gives him something to do. “If you provide me with a list of responsibilities, I’ll be most able to attend to your needs.”

That sends Jared’s mind in the worst possible direction, and he feels his cheeks heat up. That doesn’t go unnoticed by Jensen, either. “I am fully equipped to act as a sexual partner, among my other functionalities.”

“I- no, no! That’s not…” Yeah, Jared’s red to the tips of his ears now. Hearing those words come out of Jensen’s mouth- his pretty, pretty mouth- this isn’t doing him any good at all. “That’s not why I got you. Um- just… give me a minute to sort it out.”

Jensen seems unfazed by how flustered Jared has become. If this is any indication of how their time together is going to be… “Of course, Mr. Padalecki. Take all the time you need.”

Jared clears his throat and nods, glancing away while he tries to compose himself. “Right. Uh… you can just look around for now. See the house.”

Jensen nods once, and then sets off on his own, leaving Jared with his thoughts. Once he’s managed to calm down a little, he huffs out a breath and turns towards the kitchen, intent on finding himself something to drink.

He’ll figure this out. Eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	30. One-Hundred Fifty: Manual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Congratulations! You are the proud new owner of an AX-600 android, the newest and most advanced household synthetic on the market. This guide will teach you everything you need to know about your android’s functions, capabilities, and maintenance…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Android again.

As it turns out, when Jensen isn’t given specific directions as to what Jared wants him to do, he takes it upon himself to start going through a list of typical household chores. While Jared tries to gather himself in the kitchen, working through what he’s supposed to do with a new synthetic companion (housekeeper? assistant? what  _is_  Jensen to him?), Jensen familiarizes himself with the house and then starts to tidy it. He gathers up loose magazines, dirty paintbrushes, a couple stray pizza boxes- all the stuff that’s Jared’s become desensitized to after living in a general state of chaos for so long.

“Oh, uh- thanks,” he says when he realizes what’s going on. Jensen smiles at him before continuing on his way, apparently content to keep tidying up.

Jared’s got a user manual sitting on the kitchen table, a hefty book that had been shipped to him just before Jensen had been ready for pick-up. It catches his eye now, a pair of smiling synthetics on the cover, and once Jensen leaves the kitchen again, Jared approaches it, cautious. He’s flipped through it already, but he ought to read it properly, right? Figure out what he’s doing? How to… god, does he need to take care of Jensen? How much maintenance does a synthetic need?

He flips open the front cover. Only one way to find out.

_Congratulations! You are the proud new owner of an AX-600 android, the newest and most advanced household synthetic on the market. This guide will teach you everything you need to know about your android’s functions, capabilities, and maintenance…_

The introduction is a dozen pages on its own, and the thought of tackling the entire text is dizzying. He needs to read it, though, right? If he wants to be a good owner? Master? He doesn’t ben know what to call himself. Maybe there’s a section on self-identification?

He’s so wrapped up in his own thoughts that when Jensen speaks, suddenly standing just by his shoulder, Jared nearly jumps out of his skin. “Are you hungry, Mr. Padalecki? It’s getting late, and you should have some dinner. I can also begin monitoring your caloric intake to ensure your continued health.”

Jared needs a moment to compose himself, and Jensen waits patiently, watching him. “I, um… yeah, actually. Dinner would be great.”

“Then dinner is on the way.” Jensen nods dutifully and turns to the fridge, heading over and opening it up. “You need some groceries, Mr. Padalecki. Should I start a list for you?”

If Jensen is intent on attending to every aspect of Jared’s life, then Jared is going to have to let him. “Yeah. Yeah, alright. Thanks.”

“Based in the contents of your fridge, I can offer two hundred and ninety-eight recipes,” Jensen continues, and he tilts his head as he says it, and. It’s cute. It’s really cute, and Jared wants to swallow his own tongue. “Would you like me to list them?”

Jared’s stomach grumbles at him and he decides he doesn’t need to hear every single option. “Just pick whichever one you think is best. Or your favourite.”

He feels stupid for saying that a second too late, but then he catches a tiny, soft smile on Jensen’s face, and he feels his heart stutter. Jensen’s not looking at him, and he’s quiet for a moment. “I will. Thank you, Mr. Padalecki.”

As Jensen starts to get some food ready- he doesn’t tell Jared what he’s making, which is just fine in Jared’s book- Jared turns back to the manual, eyeing it dubiously once more. There’s no time like the present, so he sighs and pulls it towards him again, glueing his eyes to the page.

_Your AX-600 is extremely adaptable, and will perform several day-to-day tasks for you. After reading this manual, talk to your android to ensure that it understands its duties under your care…_

He sneaks one more glance at Jensen before diving in. Might as well get a sense of what, exactly, he’s signed up for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	31. One-Hundred Fifty-One: Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the sun shining overhead, it’s hard not to doze off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very, very small brothers thing.

With the sun shining overhead, it’s hard not to doze off. A breeze rustles the grass and wildflowers, offering a reprieve from the heat, and a handful of fluffy clouds drift across the sky. In Dean’s mind, it’s a perfect day.

Sam’s close by, of course. Sprawled our on his back with his head pillowed on an old sweater and probably taking a nap. Dean isn’t far behind, and he closes his eyes against the sun, huffing out a quiet breath and getting good and comfy.

He doesn’t usually associate impulse with relaxation, but it’s exactly what led them here, taking a day for themselves on the countryside for some rest and relaxation. It hadn’t been hard to find an empty field along the road, and after parking the car in a secluded spot under some trees, it had been easy enough to wander on over and make themselves comfortable. He doesn’t look at his watch, and he doesn’t let himself think about the rest of the world.

“Nice day, huh?” he murmurs, and Sam doesn’t respond, so Dean smiles and allows himself to start drifting off.

They’re due a little vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


End file.
